


Greetings From Kirkwall

by CrimsonRogue



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Letters, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Purple Hawke, The Hanged Man (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonRogue/pseuds/CrimsonRogue
Summary: A collection of letters from the daring, disastrous group that is the Champion of Kirkwall and her companions, as they run amok in the city. These are not following any one plot, but are rather a random assortment of correspondences detailing the (mis)adventures of Hawke and her friends.





	1. Unjust Banishment

Dearest, darling Varric

You might have noticed my absence in The Hanged Man these last few days. And by might, I mean there is no way the dismal lack of charm and wit and stunning good looks would have escaped you. That is because I have been “banned” for the third time this month! Quite ridiculous, Varric!

You might also, perhaps, have heard certain scandalous and incredibly false tales from Corff about the reason for this particular banishment. Such falsehoods as “disrupting the peace more than usual” by “starting fires not contained to the fireplace.” Clearly these are all lies. First of all, I have never seen anything that could be considered “peaceful” in The Hanged Man after 5pm. Second of all, that fire, which DEFINITELY did not come from me, hardly even scorched the floorboards. If anything it probably did away with a layer or two of cheap ale, piss, and vomit. Corff should be thanking me for helping to sanitize that corner of the room. Or not me rather, since I didn’t do it, but he should thank the actual culprit. And even if it had been me (which again, it was not), I imagine it would have been completely warranted due to a mixture of too much ale (that must have been the one night they DIDN’T water it down), and a lesson that had to be taught. I would imagine such a fire might have occurred if some particularly greasy and disgusting fellow had wrapped his hands around my waist from behind and told me the sight of my, err, assets, was “setting a fire below his belt.” Obviously, the only thing to do in such a situation would be to make his dreams a reality, and set his pants on fire. Worry not, my friend, he lived (unfortunately) after Norah dumped a pail of water on him. We can only hope he limped away from the situation unable to procreate and spread his muck about the population. Or, at least, that is how I imagine such a situation might have occured. 

Isabela thought it was hilarious. But while SHE gave me a pat on the back and bought me another drink, Corff kicked me out of the place before I could even get one sip in! This is unjust, Varric! The banishment has already lasted three days, because Corff is being a hardass and you are simply doing nothing while your dearest and most loyal friend suffers from ale deprivation.

Talk to Corff. Please. I’m begging you.

Your dearest and most loyal friend,  
Marian Hawke

P.S. I’ll buy you a drink IF I EVER GET BACK IN THE TAVERN.


	2. Careful, Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Merrill, from Isabela

Kitten,

You really are something else. I swear, the next time we walk out of the Hanged Man after Varric’s finally paid us, maybe try not announcing it quite so loudly to all around us. Even I was tempted to stick my fingers in your pockets. I almost feel bad for the sorry scuts who tried to corner us before we’d gotten not two blocks away. And you, sweet thing, did you really not understand that “show us what you’ve got there” is neither a friendly request to examine the embroidery on your purse nor an invitation to have some fun, but rather an attempt at mugging? They really were thrown when you just smiled and started chatting about the intricacies of Dalish embroidery. It was adorable. Once they remembered their original purpose and tried to grab your things, I didn’t even have to step in. There you were, lightning at your fingertips (I AM curious about the potential of that particular trick), and those poor sods down in mere seconds. Truly remarkable. But as much as I love watching you work, next time keep things to yourself, why don’t you? Might make things a bit more peaceful, if less fun. 

Yours,  
Isabela


End file.
